


in memoriam

by Bates



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Accident, F/F, Funeral, Grief, Illustrations, M/M, Major character death - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-22 20:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8300396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bates/pseuds/Bates
Summary: Around eleven pm local time, Castiel Winchester and his husband, guitarist Dean Winchester were involved in a car accident on their trip to England, where the author was reportedly working on finishing his latest novel.





	

 

  

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The headache has been pounding behind Claire’s eyes ever since her uncle picked her and her girlfriend up at the airport. It’s smothering her, tuning out the world behind a curtain of static and for the first time in her life, she’s almost grateful for it. It makes sure her uncle and girlfriend stay quiet during the drive and that people leave her alone while they’re waiting on their flight. Even now, as they’re flying over an ocean she can’t be bothered to name, they’re not quite talking. Or at least, she and Alex – hiding in the back rows of the plane – aren’t.

Her uncle Sam is, her grandma is. Aunt Jess and her cousin are. They’re all trying to be strong and not crumble, because there are people around, but none of them are succeeding. She knows that, because the last time she looked over the seats, her uncle was hiding his face in aunt Jess’s shoulder. Earlier, in the airport, Alex had said how all their eyes seemed red and their voices off, their throats raw.

 “You okay?” Alex asks quietly, her hands still holding Claire’s tightly. “You’ve been really quiet.”

“I will be.” She tears her eyes from the sun setting in the sky and the pitch black darkness of the ocean and shifts her attention to her girlfriend. “You?”

She doesn’t know what else to answer. She’s still not processing any of it. It had only been three hours since the hospital called. Since they rushed to the airport, not even packing bags, just gathering the essentials and running.

“I’m alright. Worried.” Alex’s words sound like their coming through cotton pads stuffed in her ears. “About Castiel. About you.” She takes her hand and despite the fact that it’s streaked with red from where her nervous fingers scratched at it, brings it to her lips and presses a gentle kiss to the Claire’s knuckles. “I hope he’ll be okay.”

“Me too.” Part of her is yelling at her he won’t be, the other part of her is hopeful and praying. They’re in a constant battle and which one is winning changes every minute.

“Let me take care of those, once we get a moment alone.” Her thumb runs a finger over the raised pathways across her skin and part of Claire wants to pull her hands away. She’s…ashamed for them. For how much she still relies on old coping mechanisms, on the past to help her face the future. “Please?”

“I can do it myself-“ she starts, but shuts her mouth. “Yeah. Sure.” It’ll help both of them feel more grounded, feel at home. “Thank you.”

Alex just smiles, nods. “He’ll be fine, you know. Your dad’s strong.” The last update they got from the hospital, he was still in surgery and it’s looking bad, but none of them are thinking about it, _allowing_ themselves to think about it.

“He got a book out on about three thousand cups of coffee and survived,” she offers, despite herself.

“See. He can get through this, if he wants to.” _By the time they get to the hospital, he might not be there anymore. She might never get to say goodbye to either of them._ Claire pushes the thoughts away. _No._ It won’t happen and she’s just thinking up every scenario possible. He’ll be fine. He always is.

“I think dad wants –“ she catches herself before she can continue and it _hurts_ , “would have wanted me to talk. At the funeral. Or maybe Bobby, I don’t.” For a moment, she panics. What if they chose wrong, what if-

“You don’t have to think about that now, babe,” Alex says quietly, pulling her back to the now she most desperately wants to escape. “Try to sleep, take some Tylenol, maybe the headache will ease up.”

At least the Tylenol would help her sleep, would help her pass into slumbers easier and quicker. The headache won’t ease up and she knows it. It’s not a _something up with my brain_ headache, it’s more a ‘ _the stress and emotional strain is killing me_ ’ headache and, sadly, the only solution for those is sleep or death.  Which, one of them isn’t really an option. “I’ll wake you up when we’re getting close.” What Alex doesn’t say, is that it’ll stop her from thinking about what she wants to say. About the funeral. About the future they’ll have to build.

For once in her life, she listens to her girlfriend’s advice and swallows the pills before resting her head against her shoulder. Alex’s fingers playing with her hair comfortingly and her humming under her breath are what help her lull to sleep before she’s even finished Hey Jude’s first verse.

 

\-------

_They don’t make it to the hospital in time._ By the time they get to the ground, almost all of them have missed phone calls. They must have given up after ringing her one last time, because they’ve left a voicemail. One they all listen to over speaker.

Even though she never thought hearing the words ‘ _your father didn’t make it_ ’ would both ease her mind and make her feel miserable at the same time, they do. Half of her aches, aches for the loss of her father and how she’s lost both people she’s loved the most in her lifetime. The other half of her is almost relieved. Relieved to know that he’s never had to know his husband is dead too. He’s never had to see a world without Dean alive.

“At least he didn’t know dad’s dead too,” she whispers in Alex’s shoulder when her girlfriend pulls her close and rubs her back. Her tears stain her shirt, but she doesn't seem to care. She just runs her fingers over her back and soothes her. Somewhere along the way, Alex starts crying too and they’re both just clinging on to the other. In the moments between her sobs, she gasps for breath, lungs begging her for oxygen her brain doesn’t want to accept. “At least dad never knew.”

She barely feels her brother’s hand on her shoulder, the way he pulls her in eventually and hugs her tight.

“They can’t be gone.” Her heart breaks again, the shattered pieces tearing at her flesh. “Dad can’t be gone.” But Bobby’s right. They’re gone, they’re both gone, and they’re never coming back.

"We never even got to say goodbye.”

"They don’t mind,” he whispers and in that moment, it’s painful how much he sounds like Dean, how much he uses the same words and even feels the same when they’re hugging. “They know.”

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

 

They’re taking everything out of their hands and while Claire’s partially glad for it, she’s also pissed at the rest of her family. With her grandma and uncle Sam arranging most of the details surrounding sermon, she and her brother are left to their down mind and thoughts.

At least they’re keeping busy. With their chairs pressed closer together than Claire thought she’d find comfortable. She can’t even remember who had the idea of making a video for the funeral, but they’ve been working on it off and on.

“This one,” Bobby says, pointing to the picture of them at Halloween, about ten years ago now. “That one’s a good one.” They’re just looking for small things to add now, with most of the video already completed.

“Done.”

She has to admit both of them have shed more than once tear over the things they’ve seen. It’s all so _them_. It’s their fathers and their goofy smiles. When they found a video of Dean remembering how he fell in love with Cas, both of them had sat there teary eyed, but with smiles on their faces.

 

\-----

 

They’re walking into the church next to each other, Bobby and his fiancée, she and Alex. The two coffins in the front feel like a dagger to her heart, but at least they’re together. Claire almost feels disconnected from them, as if her mind doesn't want to admit that  _yes_ it's her parents that are in there. She just  _can't_.

“Do you want me to go up there with you?” Bobby asks her one more time when the preacher calls her to the front to talk about them. She just shakes her head, squeezes her brother’s hand and walks up, head held high.

“It’s hard to describe my fathers,” she starts, purposefully keeping her eyes on the back rows, where the faces blur together. “They were vibrant and loving and I still remember how they used to dress Bobby and me in matching Halloween costumes and how smug they were when people commented on it.” She’s smiling, even though inside, she wants to do everything but that. “They’re everything. Offered us a loving home. Did everything to make us feel the best we possibly could. Instead, let me show you. Let me show you what they were like.”

Silence fills the church as the video starts up, and it stays quiet until it ends and she sits back down. Alex threads her fingers through hers .

“They would have been proud,” she whispers in her ear and for the first time, she believes the words. 

 


End file.
